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by HeereandThere



Category: Onward (2020)
Genre: Also The Title IS Named After “Home” from “Beetlejuice”, Angst, Barley Might Be Lowkey OOC, But I Figured He Wouldn’t Act Quite the Same in This Scenario, Canonical Character Death, Major Spoilers, To Make Things All the Worse, ”Onward” Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23160049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeereandThere/pseuds/HeereandThere
Summary: Though he would never admit it, Barley had been spending the entire quest uncertain of what he would do if they successfully brought their father back.Of course, he wanted to see him one last time, wanted to remember him beyond the hospital visits and premature goodbyes, but he was... well, he was scared. Would Wilden be the same goofy, purple-sock wearing dad he remembered? Would he resent Barley for that rotten, regret-filled final memory?Would he look at his eldest son and see the failure that everyone else saw?But, most importantly, could Barley bring himself to see his father off for good this time?
Comments: 17
Kudos: 115





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**Author's Note:**

> EDIT (04/19/20): I know that it’s probably because I posted this when the “Onward” fic tag wasn’t very big, but this is by far my post popular fic and I appreciate the love its received so much. Thank you guys!! <3
> 
> Okay, so I saw "Onward" and I MCFREAKING LOVED IT. I'm a huge fantasy nerd, and so it was pretty easy to know that I was going to fall head-over-heels for the characters and story. It also offered us prime real estate for angsty fanfiction writing, and I wanted to try my hand at writing the conversation between Barley and Wilden towards the end of the movie. This feels hella cheesy, but I think it worked out well enough.
> 
> NOTE: Since I’ve only seen the movie once in theaters since it came out, this won’t be PERFECT to the view that Ian had of the scene. It’s based on a general idea, so please don’t criticize for those kinds of mistakes!

Barley’s stomach had twisted into knots sometime between when the dragon had fallen to pieces and this moment.

During the battle, his brain had shut off and adrenaline had taken over, increasing his capacity for doing really asinine things while decreasing his overall concern for his own wellbeing. A gigantic reptile composed of massive pieces of his brother’s school, bent on eliminating him for tampering with a curse-ridden phoenix gem? No sweat. He had survived furious, miniature bikers; gelatinous cubes; and nearly drowning in a narrow well, so, while still incredibly cool, the dragon had become just another obstacle for him to blindly underestimate. Given, there was a huge part of him that had desired to let some of the fear seep in, though he forced himself to cage the terror, as usual.

But now, as the dust settled around him and an alarmed murmur grew among the bystanders, years of pent-up anxiety and regret began bubbling to the surface. The details were still lost in the fog, though every second, Barley could make out more and more of a masculine figure standing mere feet away. The man glanced frantically around as though he were searching for something of the utmost importance, but all Barley could manage to do was to stand there, mouth agape and heart pounding in his ears.

For a moment, the man felt his face, his body, to ensure that he was truly there. That was, until his eyes locked onto Barley’s.

Laurel always told Ian that he looked so much like their father, but Barley could never really see it until now. Of course, Ian hadn’t quite grown into himself, yet, but there was an undeniable familiarity in the softly shocked expression that Wilden wore in that moment. His eyes held a fatherly tenderness behind his glasses, and a shock of his usually tidy hair had fallen into his face. For a moment, he seemed lost, almost distressed, but it soon dissipated into a joyous relief as the corners of his mouth curved into a beaming grin.

“Barley.”

Barley bit back a shuddering gasp, rather taking a deep breath to retain his composure as a sheepish smile came across his face. “Hey, Dad.” He surprised even himself with how firm his voice sounded.

Wilden held his arms out by his side, sizing his eldest son up in astonishment. “Look at you! My little Barley, all grown up. I never thought I’d see the day... If everything was timed like I wanted it to be... You would be nineteen now, right?”

With a bashful laugh, Barley nodded.

” _Nineteen_? You’re _nineteen_? Time really does fly, doesn’t it?” His grin soon faded, however, when his eyes caught a glimpse of the sun setting on the horizon. “I would say ‘tell me everything’, but I don’t think we have enough time for that.” Hazily, he turned back to Barley, forcing the disturbance to the back of his mind as he inched closer. “But, we’re here, now. Where’s...”

For a moment, he hesitated, like the question was enough alone to shatter the fragile atmosphere around them. “Where’s your brother?”

Shoulders sinking, Barley frowned worriedly. “Oh, man, Ian! He should be here for this.”

He had truly hoped that Ian would have turned up by now, because after all, this was a moment destined for _both_ of them. Barley had memories of their father, had a chance, however small, to spend time with the figure whose absence had left such a gaping whole in their lives, but Ian had nothing and now never would. This was his one chance to share his life with this man he both knew too well and not at all, and now his efforts were all for naught. He had given the one thing he wanted most in this world up, all for his older brother.

Barley watched as Wilden nodded knowingly, sorrowfully, and realized that this was his opportunity to step in for Ian, to give him even a little closure. “He really, _really_ wanted to meet you, though. He did a lot of really brave things to get here, like... like standing up to the Manticore! An-And crossing that invisible bridge without a rope! Although, he didn’t actually _know_ about that second one... He was _awesome_ , Dad, you should’ve seen him! He’s a... He’s a really good kid. You would be proud of him.”

Wilden’s eyes twinkled with excitement, liveliness. “You act like I’m not already! I know I wasn’t really... _aware_ , but I was there and I knew I was so, _so_ proud of him _and_ you. I just wish I could take more credit for the people you became.”

He brushed the hair out of his face and laughed- that same goofy laugh that Barley had clung onto all these years, a laugh that Ian would now only ever know through that one cassette tape. It sent chills soaring up Barley’s spine because he had forgotten how much comfort he held in it, how much it made him feel at home, how much it resembled this picture perfect family view that he had been forced to reconstruct at such a young age. Even now, when he had found other comforts, it stood as a beacon for everything being okay. That when this moment was over, he would still be standing, that tomorrow, he would be there to get out of bed and start his same old routine, that his mom, his brother, and his spastic little dragon would all be there to live their lives.

Still, they were running out of time. Just like they were when Wilden got sick, when a younger Barley couldn’t bring himself to say his last goodbye.

He looked down at the ground and fiddled with the hem of his vest. “Can I ask you something, Dad?”

”Lay it on me.”

”It’s kind of weird and I dunno if you’ve ever thought about it but I feel like it’s kind of important, so... If you could pick a wizard name, what would it be?”

No hesitation. Complete seriousness. “Wilden the Whimsical.” When he noticed Barley’s astonishment, he chuckled. “I mean, of course I thought about it. I was a wizard, wasn’t I?”

Barley gasped, qualms lost and smile tugging at the corners of his mouth again. “Mom said you were just an accountant!”

”Well, that _is_ true, but let’s just say that there were a lot of things that your mother didn’t know about me. But let’s keep that our little secret, okay?” he uttered with a wink. Barley nodded obediently.

The sun had sunk even lower in the evening sky, and it didn’t take long for either of them to notice. “Dad, I don’t know if I can...”

A firm hand gripped Barley’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything, just... come here.”

It took a moment for Barley to process what was happening, but when he did, he finally broke down.

For the first time in sixteen years, his father was hugging him.

A flood of memories that he didn’t realize were buried in the confines of his mind came back to him; they were vague, but he could just narrowly make them out through the crowd of twenty years’ worth of recollection. Memories of being carried inside the house when he fell asleep on late-night car rides, memories of being picked up and held tight whenever he fell playing outside, memories of him being scooped up in a fit of giggles when his little self was feeling rebellious and would run off, memories of a parent clinging to him like it was the last time he would ever hold his son, memories of when things went terrible and Wilden tried his damndest not to let his little boy know.

Barley had tried so hard to keep the pain at bay, but warm tears cascaded down his cheeks and the tiniest, choking sob escaped him. Wilden’s beard was as scratchy as he remembered, his eyes as full of life as he remembered, his embrace as warm and reassuring as he remembered. His father was _alive_ , unlike he had seemed all those years ago in that awful hospital room, and that was all the child inside him could ask for. One last chance to remember his father for who he was.

”Give one of these to Ian and your mom for me, okay?”

Barley sniffed and nodded against his shoulder. When he spoke, his voice crackled with emotion. “I love you, Dad.”

”I love you, too. Don’t ever forget that.”

With those final words, the weight of Wilden’s arms around Barley’s frame dissipated as what little daylight remained faded into starry darkness, leaving him dreary-eyed and alone on the crest of the hill and overlooking the destruction below. His heart ached more than it had in forever, but it was a different pain- a healing pain. The regret he had carried in the back of his mind for so long had begun to fade, since he now had some closure, some fifth memory to replace the one that had haunted him for so long.

Feeling drained, he took a deep breath and wiped the tears from his eyes. He felt like he was floating, disbelieving, but dwelling on the scenario had to wait for the time being.

Right now, he had a brother to find and one heck of a story to tell.


End file.
